


Day Seven: Our Stars

by BlixaLooksCarsick



Series: Shumako Week 2k19 [7]
Category: Megami Tensei, Persona 5, Shin Megami Tensei, persona - Fandom
Genre: Children, F/M, Future, Love, Marriage, Offspring, legacy, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 01:14:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17498852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlixaLooksCarsick/pseuds/BlixaLooksCarsick
Summary: Day Seven: Family / Children / FutureAkira and Makoto take their children along on a visit to grandpa's place during the weekend, unaware of their kids' secret plan.





	Day Seven: Our Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Took a little break before this one. Noist weekend.

Sojiro “Boss” Sakura has always been a complex man. Those close to him could easily suspect so, but only a handful of people on Earth knew his story before he put his culinary expertise to use when he opened his own café in Tokyo. LeBlanc was eventually inherited by his best apprentice and surrogate son, one Akira Kurusu, after which Boss was free to retire to the relative solitude of a small residence near Kirifuri. That is where he decided to start a career as an author, and write for as long as he could. In a similar fashion as how he managed LeBlanc, his works did not reach too wide an audience. But those who did get ahold of them would instantly value them as obscure jewels.

Sometimes, under the cloak of twilight, he would walk out into a clearing in the woods and surround himself in a cloister of memory. This was no prison to him, but an immaterial sanctuary inside of which he recounted the events of his life. All the bad, and all the good. In this hour of division between day and night, he thought of those he cared for, both dead and living. Wakaba, Futaba, Akira, Makoto – and their children, Koharu and Ren: two brats he absolutely adored.

Despite the reclusive lifestyle he chose, it brought him great joy when the Niijima-Kurusu family came to visit. In this spot of seclusion, only the soul of the animals and the trees could hear him chuckling as he thought on the awkward first impressions about Akira and Makoto back then, and how they ended up married and starting a family. This love story was as strange as the two of them. It should be no wonder their offspring would also be an odd one.

The first chill of nightfall was the signal for him to go back inside. He thought he may as well get an early night and get the place ready for their visit the following day.

[ ]

“You two have been quiet.” Makoto said, looking at the rear view mirror.

The twins, a girl and a boy, shared much in appearance. They both had a lot of Niijima about their factions, fine and fair with a hint of their father’s sharp touches. Their brown hair was every bit as untameable as Akira’s, but only Koharu had his eyes, whereas Ren’s eyes were the same deep red as Makoto’s. Minor differences aside, the two children took on the same expression, cross-armed and pouting at their mother. 

“I think they really expected to ride on mum’s bike.” Akira laughed as he drove towards Boss’ house. 

“Really, guys? We’ve talked about this before. You’re still too young, and the ride would be too long.”

“You lied to us!” Koharu shook her arms in protest. 

“I never said you would ride with me today. I said, when you come of age, and if you want to learn to ride a bike, we’ll come here to practice.”

“But Aunt Sae let us ride with her all the time!” Ren said.

“Ha. No, she doesn’t.” Mum shot them down.

“Aunt Haru?” Koharu tried.

“Nope.” Akira said.

“Aunt Ann?” Ren attempted.

“She doesn’t even know how to ride a bicycle.” Makoto kept the game going.

“Aunt Futaba?” Both said at the same time.

“Video-games don’t count.” Akira followed the road into the forest, where the sights started becoming familiar. 

“Aunt Eiko?” Koharu and Ren tried a curve ball. 

“Plausible.” Akira thought.

“Plausible indeed.” His wife agreed. “I’ll look into that, but if it’s true, all three are so grounded.” 

“We take that back. Aunt Eiko has never let us ride a bike ever.” Koharu said with haste.

“Wanna try uncles next?” Akira grinned. 

For the next few minutes until they finally arrived at Grandfather Sojiro’s (Or Papa Boss, as the twins took to calling him), the children continued throwing their many uncles and aunts’ names only to having them bounce back every time. Sometimes, dad would throw a curve ball himself and catch them off-guard. They knew mum and dad would win the battle, but they would win the war in the end. For little did Akira and Makoto know, their children had something planned for the day, a scheme two weeks in the making: a heist. The objective: Mum and dad’s secrets, hidden somewhere, surely in Papa Boss’ study. 

[ ]

“Look who it is.” Sojiro smiled from the entrance of his house as his visitors approached. 

“Boss.” Akira greeted his surrogate father and mentor with a warm, firm handshake. “How have you been?”

“All well. Money comes in, people stay away, except for the ones I actually like.”

“It’s great to see you, Boss.” Makoto bowed as was her custom. 

“Oh, Commissioner Niijima. How many times have I told you there’s no need to be formal with me?”

“About as many as I’ve asked you to call me Makoto.” She abandoned all decorum and hugged him tightly. 

“Grandpa!” Koharu and Ren hurried to hug their beloved grandfather, the latter almost stumbling on the steps.

“Come here, you two.” Sojiro crouched to meet Akira and Makoto’s children. “You’re almost bigger than the last time I saw you, not much, thankfully. How old are you now, anyway?” 

“Seven!” Koharu said with pride.

“Seven years-old.” Boss feigned surprise. The last time he saw the two was at their birthday, just a month ago. There were few things about the occasion that escaped his memory, trifles all. One of the fondest moments was seeing Ren wear his trilby, and looking dapper well beyond his age; that was when the little boy announced he would earn the right to wear it. “Sounds to me you’re old enough to taste the LeBlanc curry.”

“Would that be a good idea, Boss?” Makoto looked a little cautious.

“I don’t know. If they make a mess, the kid will clean it up.” After all this time, the word kid was still one he used exclusively for Akira. 

“Sounds fair.” Makoto smiled with propriety as was her way.

“Do I get a say in this?” Akira said.

“Does your dad get a say in this?” Boss asked his children. Safe to say, they responded with a long and enthusiastic NO. “That’s that then. You’re outnumbered, kid, and we firmly believe in democracy under my roof. Now, come in all of you. Won’t be long till it gets chilly out here.”

Boss motioned them into his home, a little less than modest in features but cosy where it counted. The living room had a few couches most of the year, but he brought out the kotatsu whenever Futaba or Akira and his family came to visit. The walls were adorned with a variety of framed pictures, mostly landmarks in the history of LeBlanc and a few photographs he took himself of the Japanese wilderness and the coast. There was a moderately-priced flat-screen television fixed to the wall furthest from the windows. The rest of the furniture had a rustic feel to it; most of it he purchased from local carpenters. The whole of the setting lacked ostentation, but it conveyed its owner’s style well.

The kitchen was a different story altogether. Even if Boss retired from his fringe spot in the food industry, the man stayed faithful to his culinary care and nuance. Much like the living room, the furnishings were of a handcrafted tone. But everywhere else, one could see the kind of appliances and instruments one does not pick casually: these were for knowing eyes and practiced pulses. Although this room represented a facet of his life he left behind, he was intent on preserving it in spirit. He went through considerably less regret and conflict as a café owner.

The third and last noteworthy room was his study. This was the humblest of places in Boss’ home. All it truly contained were a couple of bookcases, a desk, a chair, and a small cupboard. Despite being the least catching of all places, this was the twins’ objective, where their parents’ deeply guarded secrets were mostly likely kept. In order to get there, Koharu and Ren would need to get through the living room and the kitchen as their grandfather’s guests, and pretend to be nothing more.

Both children secretly felt a little guilty about it all, but the curiosity refused to let go once it took hold of them. It started a week ago, on the aftermath of a sleepover at cousin Ryoko’s, when they first started noticing a series of strange coincidences about their parents.

[ ]

Ryoko’s big blue eyes somehow got bigger when she digested Koharu and Ren’s words. Up until that moment, the eight year old never considered that her parents, Ann and Ryuji, could be hiding a secret beyond the things she knew adults kept to themselves.

“Just think about it.” Ren spoke in a cautious whisper. “It all makes sense. None of the other kids’ parents are as close to each other.

“That doesn’t have to mean anything. I mean, they met at school.” Ryoko still sounded a little doubtful.

“Then how do you explain Uncle Yusuke?” Koharu retorted, sounding a little like her mother.

“He didn’t go to the same school as our parents!” Ren pressed.

“And he’s weird!” Koharu tagged herself in.

“Almost too weird!” Ren’s tone put a definite dot at the end.

“B-but what could they be hiding?” Ryoko was not wholly convinced, but it was too late for her to turn back now.

“I dunno. Must be something big. Even Mona-kun is involved!” Ren brought a hand to his chin, as he has seen his mother do many times before.

“Mona-kun!?” Ryoko’s disbelief struck at full force.

“He doesn’t behave like other cats I have seen,” Koharu said. “It’s like he really can understand what we say.”

“And dad does talk to him a lot. Like, a whole lot.” Ren nodded.

“But isn’t that kinda normal?” Ryoko suggested.

“Nuh-uh! We’ve done research!” Said research involved watching almost two hours-worth of cat videos. And true as they suspected, Morgana did behave differently: like a person in the body of a cat. In fact, this angle was what they felt most confident about, as Morgana fetched Akira as soon as he realised what the children were watching, almost as if he were trying to prevent them from making a breakthrough. Of course, neither of them considered dad came to snatch them away from the screen because it was not a very healthy thing to do for as long as they were.

“So, the cat is weird, and Uncle Yusuke is weird, so what?” Ryoko shook her head, large pigtails swaying back and forth. “What do you think our parents are hiding?”

“Something forbidden… like a blood oath!” Koharu opened her eyes wide to highlight the impact of her conjecture.

“What is a blood oath?”

“Something dark and mysterious. We… we don’t know that much about it. Aunt Futaba lets us watch stuff mum and dad say we shouldn’t, but she doesn’t explain much either.” Ren seemed unsure.

“And Aunt Futaba is also weird! Too weird not to be hiding something!” Koharu added. “We’re going next weekend to Papa Boss’ house. I’m sure he must know something.”

“You guys are crazy.” Ryoko dismissed. “But let me know if you find something.”

[ ]

Though hopeful and driven, Koharu and Ren were not naïve. They knew their grandfather, however cool he was, would probably not tell them if their parents, aunts and uncles did make a blood oath. They did not ask their parents directly either, for the same reason. In fact, it was better if they never knew a thing about their investigation: mum led the police force and dad could solve any puzzle he got his hands on; they would have no chance if their intentions were known. This is why their mission relied on stealth and their knowledge of Papa Boss’ home layout. 

Luckily for them, grandpa’s study was right across the bathroom at the end of the hallway, after turning a corner. There was only one light fixture at the end of the path, meaning they could disguise themselves in the shadows throughout the middle of the way. But such advantage could be easily wasted in unskilled, sloppy hands.They needed to play it cool and make sure that every bathroom break was well spent to make as much progress as possible between the two. Make every second count, and make sure their short absences went unnoticed. Rendezvous and discreet relay the gained information to the other. 

This was the most complex endeavour they had to undertake so far in their lives. Tougher than school, tougher than Aikido. But the greatest challenge was not to silently raid Papa Boss’ study - the true difficulty lay in remembering the plan in the midst of the good time they were having. 

They afternoon did not start off at the living room, as the twins expected, where the conversation between adults translated into chances for them. Instead, all moved to the kitchen and prepared dinner together. Dad always said he would teach them how to make the curry and the coffee that put LeBlanc on the map – however obscure its place was, but he never got around to it. In truth, he did not feel Koharu and Ren were old enough to handle the stove. But here, as per Boss’ suggestion, he found the perfect role for them.

Spice managing. 

In terms of curry, Akira only served one kind for his children: a mild, safe variety he only made at request. Though the signature LeBlanc curry was not overwhelmingly hot, it was too strong for tender palates. If Akira was to gently introduce his children into the curry dimension as a fun family activity, he certainly would need Boss’ help. And as always, Makoto’s firm but very patient hands were there to guide when the twins took turns to stir the pot. 

Koharu and Ren got involved to some degree in every step of the process, from the making to the gleeful eating later on. Time went by in a flash, and to their detriment, drowse swooped in unexpected. The two children slept peaceful on the couch while their grasp on their plan loosened, leaving only a nagging feeling beneath their dreaming, a twitch of urgency. 

In the meantime, Akira and Makoto took the liberty to join Boss for a smoke.

The mental image of the early impressions about them came back for a moment. He had always seen some of himself in the kid; something roguish and bold, a touch of the quiet hope that his deeds led to somebody’s welfare. But when it came to Makoto, the old man was taken aback. She was a proper lady, even back then, graceful but not meek in the slightest, a true queen in a world of arbitrary reverence. And now, here she was, a woman, graceful and strong, a full-fledged leader. He was proud of them for finding each other, for growing together, and making these two children.

He blamed the tear in his eye on the smoke that wandered from the tip of his cigarette.

[ ]

Koharu woke up suddenly. A remnant of purpose clung to her thoughts with stubborn insistence. There was something they were meant to do, a deed whose fruition eluded them with every hour passed. Realisation hit her unceremoniously, and she avalanched down the couch, along with the thick covers that kept her warm as she slept. The little girl looked around her and found only her brother, still sleeping. She instinctively cast a discreet glance at the window, and saw her parents and Papa Boss outside, completely oblivious to her.

“Hey! Wake up, Ren! It’s now or never!” She spoke in hushed tones, trying to shake her brother awake, but his sleep was deep.

She realised it was all up to her alone.

Minding every step along the way, she quickly made for their grandfather’s study. The door was thankfully unlocked, so she slipped in, barely making a sound. It was dark inside, and she had been in here very few times in the past, not enough to make a reliable mental layout of what was where. Koharu carefully groped at the walls, tiptoeing to reach as much as she could. Finally, she found the light switch.

Time was ticking. The girl wasted no time in looking at the spines on the books around her, or the small trinkets on the shelves. She went directly for the desk, where her gut told her she would most likely find something of interest. The two drawers on the right were locked tight, and there was nothing on top of the desk save for a laptop. She thought she may be able to find something in Papa Boss’ computer, but that would take too much time. 

Before letting out a disheartened sigh, her little foot grazed something under the desk: A small cardboard box. The top easily came loose. Koharu’s pupils dilated to the sight of the items in the box. They looked unremarkable at first sight, but she felt they were special, and the very thing they were looking for – she felt it in her bones, the signs of the blood oath.

The first thing she found was a small black booklet, or at least, it looked like it had been black once; now, in her hands, it looked dark grey, very old and worn, like a book repeatedly read from cover to cover. The pages were yellowing, the handwriting on them was hard to read in some places, and easier on others. On the first pair of pages, she saw consecutive dates in April written down. There were a few, careless notes under each day, mostly illegible. 

Koharu flipped through the notebook and saw how each day had a little more written down to it. She could not stop to read for more than a few morsels of a second each time, but she did notice her mother’s name written down several times, increasingly more often as the days passed by. There were also the names of her aunts and uncles and a few others she did not recognise.

As if following a whim, she stopped on one random date. 

“July 29

Hot day. 

Still a bit tired from the last few days. Should take it easy for a bit. Some requests from work pending, should take care of them soon. Tried brewing a different blend today. Sakura-san says I’m not quite there yet. Will try again tomorrow.

Makoto called! Said she wanted to go see a movie today. It was a Yakuza flick. A good movie, not very different from the Hong Kong police thrillers I used to watch back in Kawasaki. Makoto was really into it. Hard to just focus on the movie. Her reactions are distracting, in a good way. She seemed worried that liking Yakuza flicks made her seem weird. She worries too much about that kind of stuff. I wish she could feel more comfortable with these things. She’s had a lot on her plate lately. We all kind of have.

Still, it was fun. Felt pretty sad when we parted. I like her a lot.”

Koharu decided against reading further. Time ticked away and there were still other items in the box. Under the booklet lay a few pictures. These were not framed like the others she saw in the living room. One of them showed a bespectacled woman with dark hair; she smiled while holding a cup of coffee and a cigarette. Was she grandpa’s wife? Was she Mama Boss? Another picture showed her parents, and a few of her uncles and aunts when they were all younger. Koharu could not describe the feeling welling up in her chest from seeing this picture. There was someone else in the picture she did not recognise. A lost uncle, maybe? 

To her growing suspicion, Morgana was also in the picture, and he looked no different than now. Sure, it could be another – exactly identical cat – but Koharu doubted that was the case.

And beneath those pictures, there was a strange postcard-like rectangle with a black and red bullseye design. In the centre, she saw some cartoonish drawing resembling a top hat, and three words in bold English.

TAKE YOUR HEART.

Koharu was about to take it when she heard her father’s voice from afar.

“Koharu-chan?” 

In the ensuing rush of adrenaline, the girl hastened to put everything back in the box and scurried out of the room. She managed to muffle her frenzy quick enough to pretend she had just come out of the bathroom. One last glance back confirmed she at least remembered to close the door to grandpa’s study behind her.

“I was in the bathroom!” She said, putting unasked questions to rest. Whatever happened now, she at least had the certainty that the mission had not been a complete failure. In fact, she knew her brother and she were on the right track, and Ryoko would hear all about it.

“Did you remember to dry your hands?” Akira asked playfully.

“Uh-huh!” 

“That’s my girl.” He smiled. “So, what do you say we crash here for the night? Your brother’s not waking any time soon and it’s tricky driving out of here when it’s dark. Does that sound good!”

“Yes!” She was not lying. It really was a good time ahead. Perhaps, dad and grandpa would let them have some coffee for once. 

Outside tarried a little before coming back in. 

“Will you tell them someday?” The old man asked, getting a sigh out of Makoto.

“I think we’ll have to eventually.” She admitted.

“These kids of yours have a sharp mind, just like their mother and their father. I’d be surprised if they don’t suspect something by now.” Sojiro’s eyes strayed briefly to his right, to the window in his study, seeing the light left on by the little intruder. He smiled to himself.

“That they do, alright.” Makoto rubbed the cold off her hands before returning inside. “Let’s go, Boss. I think Akira will be making some coffee.”

“Sounds good. I think the kid got it right in the end.” Those words reached far beyond his flavour profile, once upon a time so bland, but he needed not say anything further.

Life goes on.

**Author's Note:**

> So, here it technically ends.
> 
> ShuMako week has been a great opportunity to hone my writing and explore new themes, and of course, to give some love to my OTP from Persona 5. 
> 
> Though I will return now to my main fic, Crimson Masquerade, which is sort of a big ShuMako fic on its own, I think I'll indulge in a few one shots for these two every now and then.
> 
> Thank you all for reading, and for the fellow creators, for giving me feedback and for the great works you have written throughout the week - plenty of which, I'll be catching up on soon.
> 
> Cheers!


End file.
